


honey honey (what you mean to me)

by leaveanote



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, Flirty Jaskier | Dandelion, Fluff, Geralt is Fond, Geralt is an impressed boyfriend, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier's music is powerful, M/M, and he's hot when he sings, jaskier writes Honey Honey in this universe but really it just feels very soft, kind of?, silliness, though only just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29249049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leaveanote/pseuds/leaveanote
Summary: Three months post-love-confession, Jaskier debuts a new song at a tavern.Yes, it's the Mamma Mia one. Look, I couldn't help myself. It fits! Not only because it's ridiculous and sexy and Jaskier would, but because it makes his audience look at Geralt as someone desirable, and safe.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 94





	honey honey (what you mean to me)

The village’s second-best tavern is a late-night wreck of sour smells and raucous bodies, and Geralt would loathe it if it weren’t for his boyfriend’s utter joy at being the center of it all. Jaskier’s belting out song after song to whoops and cheers, so happy the witcher can actually smell it through the crowd. It’s almost magic, Geralt thinks, the way he can rile his audience with a bawdy jig or coax them teary and half-sober with a ballad. 

“...a friend of humanityyy-y-y-y!” Jaskier yells, strumming madly away. His audience, which has sung along with every line, shrieks and screams the finale with him. 

Geralt still doesn’t understand it entirely, but he has choice but to believe in the power of Jaskier’s songwriting to change the public perception of, well, anything. No more fruit thrown at him, no more curses flung. Nowadays, he actually gets flagons of ale for free for his troubles, even occasionally rooms discounted not only for  _ witchering _ , as Jaskier puts it, but actually just for  _ accompanying Jaskier.  _ At this very moment, drunk patrons scramble to throw coins at him as per Jaskier’s song, which is annoying, but admittedly lucrative. 

Yes, it’s all been rather spectacular since he started letting Jaskier tag along—but far more so beginning roughly three months ago, when he sank to his knees and asked Jaskier if he’d consider having him as a partner. Jaskier had agreed rather forcefully, and it was only the following morning (or perhaps it was several mornings later, the days pass in a bit of a blur when they get going), that Geralt put forth a single stipulation to their relationship. 

“Don’t you dare,” he had murmured, carding his fingers through Jaskier’s sweaty hair, “write a song about my cock.”

The way Jaskier had looked at him...he, ah. Well. Perhaps he should have known.

The crowd is jaunty and high-spirited now, after such a fan favorite. Someone claps Geralt on the back, someone else shoves another ale at him. Jaskier’s doublet’s undone as he strums transitional chords to get to his next song, sweat making his chemise cling to his body. Jaskier’s upturned hat bulges with coin, and Geralt hopes this will be done soon and he can take his boyfriend to bed, but Jaskier flashes him a quick, wicked sort of smile and nervous anticipation twists in his gut.

“All right, all right. All good things must come to an end, my darlings, and I’ll be retiring for the evening shortly,” Jaskier announces. Boos and groans fill the tavern, cutting off at once as he raises his hand. “But first!” he cries, his voice rough, and fuck, Geralt aches to brush his sweaty hair back, to make him sing in a very different way. He adjusts in his seat, staring blazingly at Jaskier. “Who wants to hear... _ a new one?” _ The crowd screams their approval, and Jaskier, chest heaving, looks right at Geralt, and  _ winks. _

...fuck.

“Honey honey, how he thrills me, a-ha, honey honey,” Jaskier chirps, and Geralt’s eyes widen. “Honey honey, nearly kills me, a-ha, honey honey!” Jaskier bobs from his perch atop the tavern table, dancing with joyful abandon, wiggling his hips, and the audience roars with applause, following his lead and dancing with each other. 

“I've heard about him before,” Jaskier continues, “I wanted to know some more. And now I know what they mean, he's a love machine — oh, he makes me diz-zy!” Here, he pretends to swoon, eyes rolling back in glee, and witchers  _ rarely  _ blush, but Geralt feels his cheeks going very, very hot. 

“Honey honey, let me feel it, a-ha, honey honey! Honey honey, don't conceal it, a-ha, honey honey!” Jaskier  _ growls  _ on  _ let me feel it  _ and winks on  _ don’t conceal it, _ and yes, fucking gods fucking damn it, Geralt is definitely pink through his ears now. “I feel like I wanna sing when you do your... _ thing!”  _ Jaskier snarls the last word, and the audience whoops with delight. 

Hardly fair, Geralt thinks furiously, that Jaskier gets such credit for that line when clearly it is just  _ verbatim what has happened.  _ Several pairs of eyes have turned to him in surprise and even lust, more so when Jaskier positively howls:

“Honey, to say the least, you're a dog-gone... _ beast!” _

But with that line, something fresh in Geralt twists. He understands, he thinks. Yes, Jaskier’s written this unimaginably embarrassing song because he is, as Geralt is, utterly besotted, and they’ve spent rather a lot of time rolling around with each other since they’ve gotten together, it’s not surprising Jaskier drew from the inspiration. Yet...as Geralt takes in the mood of the crowd, especially at that  _ beast  _ line, he senses something else there, beneath Jaskier’s usual shameless bawdiness. 

The song is  _ silly.  _ It’s sexy, and it’s passionate, but it’s silly in a very specific way, and the inclusion of that line —it’s as if Jaskier’s telling the crowd,  _ oh yeah, big scary witcher, sure. You’re right he’s a real monster...but only in bed!  _

With his ridiculous song, Jaskier’s making him into someone desirable. Even the most vicious parts of him, only there to better pleasure his partner, who unquestionably  _ wants  _ it, rather badly.

He’s making sure everyone knows Geralt isn’t only desirable, but  _ safe.  _

Geralt takes a rather large swig of ale and tries not to choke on it, the blush spreading to his ears now. He watches Jaskier with softness in his eyes, and wonders how the fuck he got so fucking lucky. Re-commits for perhaps the thousandth time to never fuck up again, not with Jaskier. Jaskier’s too good for that. 

Jaskier’s gone through a couple more choruses, but now, his pace slows. He crosses the tavern, and the crowd parts for him. He looks hard at Geralt, a mirror of that first time in Posada, except this time, Geralt is looking back. This time, Geralt meets his eye contact, and doesn’t break it. Jaskier smiles as he strums, that soft smile that Geralt knows is just for him.  __

“I'd heard about you before,” Jaskier croons. The audience watches, entranced. “I wanted to know some more.” Jaskier releases his lute, letting it hang from its strap. The tavern’s gone quiet except for the thread of his voice. He walks to Geralt, his head tilted cutely, and places his arms around Geralt’s shoulders. Geralt’s hands go to Jaskier’s waist, pulling him in. “And now I'm about to see, what you mean to me…”

Geralt lets Jaskier’s lilting last note drag on until it fades, before he kisses his beautiful mouth so, so gently. 

Jaskier kisses him back, sweaty and breathless, and Geralt holds him like a precious thing, because he is. Everything else melts into the background for a moment, there’s only Jaskier in his arms, heartbeat pounding not only from exertion but, Geralt recognizes, slight anxiety as he wonders if his performance had been well-received by its muse. Geralt hums, and smiles reassuringly into the kiss, and Jaskier pulls back just far enough to beam at him. 

It’s only then that Geralt remembers where they are, the swell of the crowd tuning back in with a roar.

They’re... _ cheering. _

Thunderous applause fills the tavern, stomping feet and wolf whistles, Jaskier’s hat filled to the brim with flung coin and even more littering the floor around them. The mood has shifted again, Geralt can sense it as Jaskier laughs and bows and gathers up the coins. It’s not just bawdy and flirty now. The audience is cheering...because he’s in love with Jaskier, and Jaskier loves him back, and they can  _ feel  _ it, through his music. Because Jaskier made them see Geralt as not just a sex object, not even just a hero, but someone worthy of love. And the audience is actually  _ rooting for them. _

Jaskier pushes some of the coin into Geralt’s hands, because he simply cannot carry it all, and then pulls him into a bow. He’s saying his thanks and good-nights, and Geralt lets him drag him out of the tavern hall toward their room for the evening, in the midst of wild applause.

Once they get to the room and Geralt bolts the door, they place the coin in the case they use for safekeeping and Jaskier looks at him, slightly nervous anticipation shining in his eyes. 

Geralt stares at him for a moment, and then laughs.

“You,” he chuckles, “are very powerful.” He brushes the hair from Jaskier’s eyes and cups his face. 

“You really did like it, then?” Jaskier asks, fidgeting. “It did all seem to turn out rather well, but I know that—well, I know I promised—”

Geralt laughs again, and Jaskier’s eyes light up.

“You were always going to write a song about my cock, weren’t you?” He nuzzles Jaskier’s nose with his own. “It’s you, after all. I knew what I was getting into.”

“Oh,” Jaskier sighs, relieved, “oh good—”

“Besides,” Geralt murmurs, “it wasn’t just about that, was it?”

Jaskier’s smile brightens, and softens, as he registers just how deeply Geralt understands.

“You’re wonderful,” he says, fussing with Geralt’s armor. “I love you, and you’re wonderful, and they should know!”

“Hmm.” Geralt feels giddy. It’s new. It’s exceedingly pleasant.  _ “You _ are wonderful. I am very, very lucky. And I love you too,” he says, and kisses him again. Jaskier flings his arms about Geralt’s shoulders and pulls him in happily.

“Besides,” Jaskier says presently, “the  _ really _ filthy ones about your cock, those I write just for you.” 

Geralt raises a brow. 

“Care to share?”

Jaskier laughs.

“Why don’t you give me a refresher on the source material?” He bites his lip, grinning. “We’ve got more than enough coin for a bath tomorrow, why don’t you make a mess of me tonight?”

“I can do that,” Geralt murmurs, and winks. “Honey.” 

**Author's Note:**

> let me know if you liked it! <3 
> 
> tumblr @ [welcomemysentence](https://welcomemysentence.tumblr.com/)


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